


Vampire versus a Fiend

by orphan_account



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Fiction so Woohoo, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:26:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sorin discovers someone is picking off the humans of Innistrad carelessly - and for what, he does not yet know. Very lightly based around events from the duel deck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vampire versus a Fiend

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes that's a terrifying title. Anyway, there is more to this already typed out -- it just needs some hella editing. In the meantime, enjoy the first little bit. First fiction, so that ought to be interesting.

Heavy in the sky sat the pale disc of the moon's face, its light trickling down through thick fog that had settled itself into a suffocating sea on Stensia. It was not unlike the plane to have such dense mist. It was the presence of smoke and young embers that littered a charred pathway along the wasteland that were cause for concern; especially for one Sorin Markov.

A cold hand wrapped its lengthy fingers around the hilt of a sword that was otherwise concealed if not for the end of the scabbard declaring its attendance under the vampire's coat. His eyes reflected the smoldering gold of the dying fire under his low-heeled boots. Irises flickered like fireflies as they combed through the surrounding fog. He stepped forward, each muscle tense. He could smell the decay mixing with charcoal. It created a repulsive odor of flesh left out in the searing sun well past due. Sorin's ears honed in on the sound of a scream that was quickly pursued by a sinister chortle that devoured it in the thin night air. His gaze entered the murky haze, pushing apart the icy mist in search. Far off through the pillars of mangled tree trunks he could see light dancing. It faded as soon as it flared, making Sorin's sleek brow lower into a predatory glare.

 

xxxxx

 

A young man's eyes were wide with panic. His person was a disaster of poor upkeep. The clothes he wore were in tatters, his nails had dirt caked into the crevices, and his teeth were accounted for, mostly. The man's jaw was agape with horrified contortions that would produce a shriek or scream, yet this man made no cry. No, he made no sound at all. He laid there on the ground in a crumpled heap, as if a filthy rag tossed into the bin without as much as a second glance from its merciless owner. The dirt and debris covered the cause of death: Large, precise incisions in his chest. These wounds expertly penetrated the body through the rib cage and entered vital organs. Blood had welled up in the lesions and ran down the sides of his body around the boot of a much taller, much older man that stood over him with an inconvenienced expression.

"Why do they always have to die before anything gets exciting? It certainly takes all the fun out of it..." the man murmured under his breath, dusting off the broad shoulders of his heavily embellished tail coat with a single red hand. He straightened out his cuffs and bent down to pick up the roundel dagger that had fallen from his grip when the human keeled over. He took out a cloth from his pocket and began wiping down the murder weapon.

"Devil!"

The man's eyes snapped up, a wicked grin flourishing across his face. Sorin stood on a short ridge just above the murderer. His frame was illuminated by the moon at his back causing his ivory hair to light up like fire.

"Ah, come to delight in a meal o' Lord of Innistrad?" Tibalt jeered in the vampire's shadow.

"I cannot afford such casualties, though with you I might make an exception," Sorin's nose wrinkled in repugnance at the sight of the deceased human. "What sort of reckless action is this?"

"I am merely partaking in vital research," quipped the devil as he finished taking the debris off of his dagger. 

"Research?" The vampire dropped from the ledge and landed inches from the devil. "Who are you." 

Tibalt's eyes sparked with excitement when he caught the enraged glare he was being given. He slid his weapon back into the sheath that clutched one of his belts. "I am Tibalt, the Fiend-Blooded," he mused. The devil offered a nonchalant bow, earning him two fists snaring the lapels of his coat and hoisting his body clean off the ground. The vampire's gaze forced its way through the devil's fulvous eyes, tearing past the suave barrier and deep into the disorderly malice that awaited beyond them.

"Leave this place," Sorin hissed through his perfectly sloped canines. "You are not welcome here."

"You treat me as if I am a tourist in my own plane," Tibalt said with a mocking pout. 

"I recall your name," sneered Sorin, "you have not been forgiven for what you have done." He dropped the devil as his throat was embraced by searing flames combusting from the other's hand. Sorin's fist connected with the inside of Tibalt's elbow, the blow forcing it to buckle. Tibalt retracted his grip with a scoff. As Tibalt geared for another strike Sorin raised a hand and with an unseeable force, stopped the fiend dead in his step. Tibalt stiffened instantaneously. His muscles started to shriek in agony as the fluid in his veins was tugged, yanked, and teased under his skin. His flesh burned and blood boiled. Limbs struggled to keep control of themselves and shook. Tibalt looked up at the lord, scanning the stoic expression. The devil let out a strained laugh through the bars of his bared teeth.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Lord Markov," he rasped. His fists clenched as his body slowly sank towards the dirt. Sorin said nothing as he controlled Tibalt's body with unrelenting magical strength. Tibalt's pupils seemed to dilate at the vampire's absent reply. He reveled in the discomfort pulsing waves throughout his being. His forked tail vibrated in delight. Tibalt's quivering form lowered further, knees digging into the ground. He felt the heat circulating in his extremities and it caused his mind to muddle. Tibalt's face twisted into a wicked leer, his line of sight meeting with Sorin's unwavering one.

"Is that all?" he choked out. His horns began to ache with a dull throbbing. The devil's fingers tingled at the tip of each ruby coloured digit. As if deterred by the arrogant statement, Sorin let his hand drop. Tibalt collapsed without any resistance. His muscles trembled as he attempted to get up. The vampire's scowl deepened.

"That was it?! Finished? What _fun_ you are!" Tibalt bellowed. Sorin let out an aggravated sigh through his nostrils.

"Consider that your warning, _fiend_ ," he said curtly, turning away from the other. Tibalt raised his head and opened his mouth to add onto his statement but Sorin had vanished. The devil managed to sit up and hunch over his knees. He glanced at the dead human that had been left discarded next to him.

"How delightful," he chuckled with a grin.


End file.
